Baboon Pirates

Scribbles and Scrawls from an unrepentant swashbuckling primate.

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Location: Texas, United States

Tuesday, February 17, 2009

You Want Me To Scrub *WHAT*??

Five Time Winner Of The Bad Housekeeping Award!!

I've always been somewhat indifferent to housecleaning. Oh, I'll wash dishes when the pile crests over the lip of the sink, and take the trash out when I can't manage to stuff another thing into the can. I'll attack the terlit with a scrub brush and can of Ajax when it looks like it's about to grow tentacles, and give the shower & sink a scrubbing every so often.

Vacuuming? That machine only sees the light of day about 30 minutes before guests arrive. Ditto for dusting. Frankly, I've got better things to do with my weekend than cleaning windowblinds and polishing the bathroom mirror.

Now, I recognize that most people have a lower tolerance for a bit of dust and clutter. I accept that. However, as an owner of shedding pets, I've long ago learned to live with a slightly elevated level of free-ranging cat hair and kitty spittle.

There are certain cleaning chores that absolutely mystify me, though.

F'rinstance... Who in their right mind scrubs baseboards? I think I'd rather have repeated colonoscopy scans than get down on my hands and knees and wash 1200 linear feet of baseboard. Since when did baseboards collect an amount of dirt & grime that necessitated cleaning in the entire lifespan of the house??

Better yet, what kind of sad deranged asshat goes to visit someone in their home, and while they're there surreptitiously inspects their baseboards for cleanliness, and makes value judgements based on that information? "I'm sorry, Margaret. We've blackballed you from the Junior League because your baseboards don't meet our standards of cleanliness."

Sigh. I can hear my mother now... "I will not have people come visit a filthy house!"

Fine. Cluttered? Yes. Dusty? Perhaps, in the remote corners. Filthy? No. No vermin to be found, and while you won't want to eat off the kitchen floor, you could dump a ladle of stew onto the kitchen counter, lap it up and suffer no ill effects.

Like it or lump it, kiddies. I spent too many summers in a dirt-floored tent to get worked up over a bit of dust.